Daughter of Wine
by Dem0nLight
Summary: Heather knows the Greek gods exist; her father is one of them. But all her life, she has denied what he stood for. When she arrives at Camp, all her choices are called into question.
1. Chapter 1

My first story...may it go over well with these readers.

HAVE MERCY! I AM NEW TO FANFICTION!

Please enjoy Daughter of Wine.

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Summer at Camp Half-Blood. The Satyrs play with the campers in the Volleyball pit, the children of Ares prepare for the next Capture-the-Flag game, Chiron oversees his lessons, and Mr. D relaxes indoors drinking diet coke. An ordinary day.

The peaceful morning was shattered by the sudden sounds of a Saytr in trouble. Chiron abandoned the archery field, galloping towards Half-Blood hill, where the cries had arisen. Upon reaching Thalia's Pine, he halted, surprised by what he saw.

The saytr in question was attempting to climb the hill, but was unable to, because of long vines entangling both him and a teenaged girl. The vines moved on their own, wrapping around the two victims.

"Get me someone from the Demeter Cabin!" Chiron ordered. A dryad emerged from her tree and ran back towards the cabins fast as the wind. At that moment, Mr. D wandered out from the Big house, his omnipresent Diet Coke clutched in his hands.

"Oh, so I didn't miss all the fun," the god commented taking a sip of his soda. Chiron glared at him until Mr. D, sighing heavily, waved his hand and the vines shrunk into a harmless plant. The saytr jumped to his feet and extended his hand to the girl. Shakily, the pair of them walked past Thalia's tree and into the protected camp.

"Well, I'll see you at dinner," Mr. D remarked, turning on his heel and walking back to the big house. Chiron sighed and approached the saytr.

"Thank you for delivering her safely," he told the seeker, a younger saytr who introduced himself as Puck. The centaur then turned to the half-blood, folding his arms.

"I suppose it's too late to break this to you slowly," Chiron remarked. "I am Chiron, activities director of Camp Half-blood. And you?"

"I'm Heather Hayes," she said, rather calm for someone who'd been attacked by a crazy plant. "Are you the original Chiron, or did you just take his name?"

"I can assure you, I am the same centaur that taught both Hercules and Achilles. You're taking this rather calmly."

"Puck introduced the idea," Heather admitted. "It helps that I've both studied greek mythology and see the monsters wandering around."

One of the Demter boys came running out of the camp, out of breath and sweating. Chiron instructed him to give Heather the camp tour, then to investigate the plant attack. Heather walked with the boy silently, without even a question to ask. Chiron watched her go, feeling deep concern for her.

_She knows too much for someone new_, he thought. _And she's older than thirteen as well. This does not bode well._

Dionysus' reaction was troubling as well. He would wait until Campfire, but no longer. If the girl's parentage did not answer his concerns, then he would press for answers. But not before.


	2. Chapter 2

Heather refused to be impressed by anything: not by the climbing wall, not by the stables, not even by the volleyball pit. The cabins might have been rocks for all the attention she gave them. Nothing and nobody could hold her attention, nor drag her out of the bitter mood into which she'd sunk.

The Demeter boy left her sitting by the sparring arena, where she stayed until evening, watching the Athena and Ares cabins go at each other. At dinner, she sat at the head table next to Chiron. Her temperament improved with the food: her plate full of strawberries, biscuits, and ribs drenched in barbeque sauce, she ate happily, tossing her entire bunch of grapes in the flaming bronze braiser as burned offerings.

Heather paid attention to nothing except her food and ever-filling glass of caffeine-free dr. pepper. Chiron watched both her and Mr. D during the course of the meal: neither so much as glanced in the other's direction. They were completely ignoring one another, showing nothing but disinterest.

At campfire, Heather tapped her food in the rhythm of the songs and joined in on the call-and-answer-songs. When the flames were gold and twelve feet in the air, Chiron stamped his hoof to make announcements. He informed everyone about the upcoming schedule for the week, including a new chariot race being held during the upcoming weeks. He then asked Heather to stand up.

"This," he said loudly, "is Heather Hayes. She's our newest camper."

Almost in perfect synchronization, everyone glanced over her head, waiting for a sign of claiming to appear. But instead of the glowing symbol they expected, a small vine plant sprouted at her feet and wound around her ankle. The plant grew in height, coiling around Heather's arms, wrists, and fingers. At the ends of the vines, bunches of grapes sprouted and ripened.

Heather was livid. Ripping the plants away from herself, she turned and pointed an accusatory finger at Mr. D.

"No!" She yelled. "I am not having anything to do with _you_!"

With that, she stomped off into the woods. Mr. D didn't even so much as take his eyes off his magazine as she rushed by.

"Just like her mother," he said, turning a page. Chiron told the campers to go to bed, then walked over to the god.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" the activities director sighed. Mr. D didn't answer and Chiron continued. "The girl is much older than thirteen. Why didn't you tell me she existed?"

"It wasn't important," Mr. D mumbled. "And it's not like she'll be accepting of me; you saw her reaction. Greek gods challenge her lifestyle, and I'm in the middle of all of it."

Chiron waited, but no more information was forthcoming. Sighing again, the centaur walked towards cabin twelve, to fetch Heather's new half-brother.


	3. Chapter 3

_When I open my eyes, I will be at home. In Texas. Nothing happened yesterday. My life is still the same._

But when Heather did open her eyes, she saw the vine-encircled walls and ceiling of cabin twelve. Sighing, she sat up, letting her feet dangle off the hammock she'd slept in the night before. Pollux, her counsellor-no way was he her brother-was already awake and dressed, and waiting for her.

"Good morning," he said as she stood up and stretched. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine," Heather mumbled, looking out the window at the camp.

Children of Dionysus they might be, but she bore no resemblance to Pollux: he had blonde curly hair, dark purple eyes and an athletic look to him. Heather's hair was a mess of loose black curls, her eyes were a mixture of blue and gray, her face held a fierce case of acne, and she had a broad, sturdy figure. The only commonality was their round facial shape, a feature that Heather had always hated about herself.

"Well, get dressed and I'll take you to the armory," Pollux replied, with a non-committal shrug. "We have training and Capture the Flag this week, so you might as well choose your own personal weapon."

Pollux left to give her privacy and she reluctantly pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, but stubbornly refused to take off her University of Texas longhorn T-shirt. Running her fingers through her black waves of hair, she let them hang down her back rather than wrestle with a hairbrush. Walking out of the cabin, she followed her counsellor to the armory.

Camp Half-blood was even more beautiful in the daytime, but Heather refused to enjoy it-not while she could see her so-called 'father' Dionysus sitting outside the Big House.

The armory was little more than a shed by the side of Cabin 6, but the sheer amount of celestial bronze weaponry was amazing: every shelf was covered in swords, daggers, spears, and even a rifle. Heather picked up the last item and felt it, but found it too awkward to hold. Pollux looked at the shelves and picked up several options for her to try. None of them felt right, except for a set of throwing blades and a short spear. No sword would balance properly in her grip, but it was regulation to train with one, so the pair of them walked to the Hephaestus Cabin for weapons advice.

In cabin 9, Heather watched in awe as a rough-looking, twelve-year-old boy take one look at her, and forge two matched scimitars that fit her perfectly. Happy, Heather returned the spear to the armory and carried her new weapons cheerfully to their Cabin's table at breakfast. Her mood soured when she saw Mr. D at the head table, but she ignored him, eating with the ferocity of a starving coyote.

After breakfast, Heather and Pollux went to their archery class. A helpful Apollo girl graciously showed Heather how to place her arrow and how hard to pull the string. The first few attempts were far off target, but by the end of the lesson, she could at least hit the target consistently. The Apollo camper gave her a high-five as she left the shooting range, telling Heather to find her at campfire.

The day was over almost as soon as it began. Dinner was just as delicious as it had been the night before, and Pollux was fully willing to have a chat with his newest cabin mate.

"There's never been a lot of Dionysus campers," Pollux explained. "I was here with my brother, Castor, and we were the only ones who ever came."

"What happened to him?" Heather asked, plucking an olive off her greek pizza. Pollux glanced at Mr. D before reluctantly answering.

"He died. Few years back, we had a monster invasion that we call the Battle of the Labyrinth. Castor died trying to defend the camp."

Heather swallowed, feeling a lump enter her throat. She looked at Mr. D herself and noticed that he was very pointedly reading a magazine and drinking diet coke. Turning back to her counsellor, she asked quietly, "How did Dionysus handle that?"

"Not well. If he were still allowed to drink wine, he'd have been drunk beyond belief. As it was, he just dissolved the council of cloven elders-the nature spirit's main leading body. A year later, the council was restored, but by then dad recovered."

"Great," Heather said, without spirit. Pollux looked at his unwilling half-sister closely.

"What do you have against him?" he asked. "Did he break your mom's heart or something?"

Heather brushed her dark hair out of her eyes, sighing.

"He's a Greek deity," she said. "And not only that, but he's the creator of wine. Alcohol ruined my mom when she was in college. To find out that my birth father is _him_..."

Slowly, Heather laid her head on the table, her hands clenched into fists. Pollux reached over and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Unseen by everyone else, Mr. D walked into the summer evening, an unusally concerned expression heavy on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

"Can you help me with the straps?" Heather asked Pollux, holding out her breastplate. "I can't make heads or tails of this thing."

Pollux smiled. Taking the metal plate, he helped her position the armor on her body.

"I remember my first Capture the Flag game," he commented, securing the last strap. "You nervous?"

"No duh!" she said, laughing a bit. "I'm running into monster-infested woods to face an army of greek heroes who are not only dressed in full armor, but carry real weapons. On top of that, I don't even know how to use these things!"

She waved one of her twin blades to punctuate her statement, making Pollux's grin grow wider.

"At least we're teamed up with Athena. Their strategies are pure genius, so they'll have a place for you."

Heather gave the blonde kids a doubtful glance, pulling her blue-plumed helmet low on her forehead. The Athena capitan assigned large groups of kids to either guarding or attacking, sending everyone in all directions. Heather waited uncomfortably for her job and was disappointed to find herself away from Pollux, who would be leading an attack straight to the center of the Red team's defense position.

"You're job," the Athena boy instructed Heather, "is to guard the feeder entrance." He pointed towards a small trail that lead to the flag's position. "If anyone tries to sneak past our guards at the main entrance, you need to stop them if you can. If you can't, don't be a hero and get yourself hurt. Just make as much noise as you can; there's another group of guards that will be waiting for your signal in the trees who will support you."

Heather nodded and took her place, scimitars unsheathed and at the ready. When everyone had their assignments, she was left alone.

She could hear the sounds sounds of battle: the slithering of metal sliding over metal, roars of warriors, the tramping of heavy boots on the earth. No one came her way and for a moment, she wondered if she'd been given an easy position out of pity. Bored, she tapped one of her blades against the ground.

Out of nowhere, a pack or red-plumed warriors swarmed through the trees, creating a semicircle around her. Heafting her scimitars, Heather planted her feet firmly, ready for their attack.

"Well if it isn't the newb," a nasty redheaded girl sneered. "You wouldn't happen to be guarding the flag, would you? Be a sweet little girl and hand it over."

"Go find it yourselves," Heather snapped. The other half-bloods laughed.

"Why? Gonna tell daddy? Get us in trouble with the director?"

Heather let her sword arm fly, knocking the helmet off his head. In truth, she hadn't meant to make it fall, just to give him a headache. She kept her composure, though. Let them think she meant it.

"I don't need his das't help," she said shortly. "I earn my own respect here. Now go find the flag and leave me unless you want to be taught that I deserve respect because of my own merits."

The redhead laughed darkly, readying her spear. The first strike was so fast that it was only pure luck that Heather managed to turn away the spear shaft with the flat of her blade. She was not so lucky the second time: the butt of the spear made contact with her jaw.

Heather hit the ground with a _thump_ that drove the air from her lungs. Struggling to pull in air, she sat up, gasping. The red-plumed warriors laughed condescendingly at the new camper. Heather pulled herself into a standing position, wheezing.

"Want some more?" the redhead growled, waving her spear. "I got plenty where that came from. I could do this all day. How 'bout you?"

Heather wiped a little blood off her chin, lifting her scimitars in preparation for the next attack. At an unseen signal, all the red-plumed kids circled her, cutting off any chance of help. As they sauntered forward, Heather tried to stand her ground, but in the moment the other half-bloods charged, she closed her eyes and waited for the pain.

It never came; rather, there was a sound lie a cracking egg and a smell like sour grapes. Heather remained frozen, waiting for her doom. The silence stretched until she couldn't bear it any longer and peeked through her eyelashes.

Heather gasped at the scene: the warriors who'd been ready to beat her were sprawled on the ground. Some sat on the ground, curled into balls, rocking back and forth and murmuring ancient greek, while others chatted brightly to their weapons or to bushes. Heather fell to her knees. What had she done?

The blue team's celebration was cut short when they found her there, staring in shock at the deed she had done. Chiron galloped over and ordered Heather's victims to be taken to the infirmary for healing. Pollux put his hands on his half-sister's shoulders. She babbled incoherently from shock, shuddering from head to toe. Her counsellor lead her back to her cabin, trying to soothe her as they went.

Chiron galloped to find the camp director. Mr. D was relaxing in the rec room, playing pac man. The centaur walked in with stormclouds worthy of Zeus himself gathered in his expression.

"Did you have to intervene?!" Chiron snapped. Mr. D groaned as pac man was eaten by Inky, the blue ghost, declaring the game over.

"I didn't have to. And no, I am not helping them. The curse should wear off in a day or two."

Chiron sighed, stamping his hoof in frustration. Mr. D could be incredibly stubborn at times, particularly regarding his own children. Heather had inherited that particular trait from her father and showed it well by refusing to accept her parentage. Yet, she couldn't run from it. Chiron knew that the father and daughter were too alike: they were on a sure collision course with disaster.

"Why won't you at least talk to her?" the activities director demanded to know. "She's eventually going to hurt someone-or herself-if this keeps up."

"You think I don't know that?" the wine god snapped. "I want to help, but she keeps pushing me away. What else can I do but respect her?"

For that, Chiron had no answer.


	5. Chapter 5

Heather swayed in her hammock, pushing herself lightly with one foot. Pollux sat on the floor near her, watching her with a worried frown.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked. Heather hadn't left the cabin for nearly two days, and the counsellor was becoming more concerned by the hour. Heather did not so much as look up when she gave a despondent "no." A quiet knock sounded at the door and Pollux rose to answer it, never letting his gaze leave his half-sister. Sighing, he opened the door and was surprised by who he saw waiting outside.

"Dad?" Pollux gasped. Heather froze where she laid.

"Hello, Pollux," Mr. D said. "Thought I would come by. The other 'heroes' in this camp have irritated me to my limit today."

Pollux stood aside to let his father in. Dionysus calmly entered the cabin, and-much to Heather's frustration-walked to her bunk. She turned away with a stony expression, and he calmly waited for acknowledgment. Pollux watched, his eyes flickering from one to the other with worry. Finally, he slipped out, letting them know he was just getting breakfast and would come back.

"The madness isn't permanent," the wine god said, breaking the silence. "You're not strong enough to do that yet. It should wear off by the end of the week, if not sooner."

"Thanks for the tip," Heather replied spiritlessly, her voice muffled into her pillow. "There's one thing off my conscience. You can go back to whatever you were doing before you butted into my personal life."

"I _am_ your father," Mr. D argued. "Isn't it my job to help my children?"

"No," Heather snapped, standing up angrily. "Your job is to go around, making people drunk and throwing crazy parties. Your job is to stay aloof from the mortals and let them live their lives. Your job is to be faithful to your _wife_."

Heather attempted to stomp past him, but Mr. D caught her arm and held it tight. She tried to pull away, but he did not budge.

"Do you know what my job is?" Mr. D's eyes flashed purple as he stared into Heather's blue ones. "My job is to sire heroes. Its what the gods do: have demigod children to keep the mortal world safe. Adriane understands that. She's not jealous like Hera."

"Did you ever think that I don't want to be a demigod?" Heather asked, not flinching from the god's fierce gaze. "All I ever wanted was to be normal, and when I found out that I wasn't, I accepted it. But I never asked to be a hero. I don't want to save the world. I just want to live my life the way I was supposed to: go to school, to college, get married, have children of my own, raise them...but I don't get that life. I don't get it because you took a fancy to my mother and took advantage of her drinking problem. I don't want to be a hero, and I don't ever want to be your child!"

Mr. D's hold on her arm slackened, and she stalked away, shoulders stiff, her face stony.

"It's because I'm a god, isn't it?" he called after her. Heather hesitated at the cabin door, but did not answer, walking out into the sunlight. Mr. D sighed and followed her out.

Pollux stared after his half-sister helplessly as his father stood beside him. The pair watched her go, then looked at each other.

"This is going to take some work," Mr. D remarked.


	6. Chapter 6

Rachel Elizabeth Dare had a hunch. The hunch told her to go to camp half-blood. She'd tried to shake the idea off many times, but it kept coming back, worse than a nagging itch. Eventually, she'd given in and caught a cab to Long Island. Now, as she stood on Half-blood hill, she could see the problem: half the campers were tangled in vine plants, while the others attempted to fight off the green tendrils with whatever weaponry the could.

The source of the commotion was a nonplussed Mr. D, who ignored Chiron's demands to leave the campers alone.

"Lord Dionysus," Rachel called. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," the wine god answered. "Some hero thought they'd play around with my pizza delivery, so I need to find out who did it. I'm not letting them go until I get my pizza."

Rachel rolled her eyes, and spotted a pair of campers who weren't being bothered by the grapes at all. She recognized Pollux, but not the dark-haired girl beside him. When the girl's blue eyes met her own, Rachel felt the spirit of Delphi stir within her.

As an Hermes camper confessed, the Oracle walked over to Dionysus' children-for who else could they be?-and shook hands with both of them. She made small talk with Cabin Twelve's counsellor before turning to his half-sister.

"I'm Heather," the girl replied to Rachel's introduction. "Just got to camp. So you're the Oracle of Delphi?"

Rachel told her that yes, she was the host for the power of Delphi. Heather asked about prophecies and the redhead tried her best to explain. As she talked, the young Half-blood watched her with a steely gaze reminiscent of Anabeth.

"So you can't really see individual futures," Heather clarified for herself. Rachel nodded and the Half-blood frowned, disappointed. Rachel could have sworn she saw Heather's eye flick over to Mr. D, but she couldn't be certain.

"Would you please come with me?"

Rachel wasn't sure why, but her hunches were back. This time, she had the urge to take Heather back to the Oracle's cave. Not one to deny the spirit of Delphi twice, Rachel had extended the invitation. Heather accepted and the two walked into the woods as the campers returned to their normal activities-Mr D. appeased by the return of his pizza.

Encountering no one except a few dryads, the mortal and demigod walked side-by-side through the woods until they reached the Oracle's cave. Heather did not show any aversion to the dark, nor the slightly reptilian smell, and Rachel took that for a good sign; many campers who came to seek the Oracle's advice were often unsettled by the cave.

"Do you live here?" Heather asked. "Because I would totally move in."

"I only stay here when I'm at camp for long periods of time. Campers come here when they need to go on a quest, or just want advice."

"So why did you bring me here? You said you can't tell me my future without getting hijacked."

Rachel didn't answer right away, instead pulling a spare piece of paper and pen from her jeans back pocket as she sat down. Smoothing out the crumpled sheet on her knee, removing the pen's cap, the redhead looked at the child of Dionysus.

"I can't tell you everything, but the Spirit of Delphi can give guidance to help you. I'll write down what I'm told."

Heather's eyes widened as Rachel lowered the pen to paper and began to write. When the oracle finished, Heather accepted the paper and bowed slightly at the waist.

"Thank you," she said fervently. Rachel nodded.

"I'm happy to help."

Heather turned and walked straight out of the cave, hardly aware of the other living things around her. Answers were between her fingers.

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A/N: I have no clue what I even wrote here. I just started typing and...well it happened. I hope this conveniently makes sense.


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